


Personal discovery number 311: Spider-Man is the little spoon

by spiderboyneedsahug



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Awkwardness, Cuddling & Snuggling, I've been promising myself I'd write this for weeks, Idiots in Love, No Smut, Pre-Relationship, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, The Author Regrets Nothing, alternatively titled: how many cute tropes can i fit into one fic?, cute stuff, interwebs, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderboyneedsahug/pseuds/spiderboyneedsahug
Summary: Being Spider-Man's guy in the chair is a pretty sweet gig, all things considered. Being Ned Leeds, and having a crush on his best friend? Yeah, that's... that's slightly less fun.Turns out, these things become harder to ignore when the damn guy shows up on your doorstep, bleeding and battered to high hell.





	Personal discovery number 311: Spider-Man is the little spoon

**Author's Note:**

> I've been telling myself I'd write this fic for weeks, and now I'm over my writer's block? I thought I'd ease myself back into writing with something cute and pure ;)
> 
> Hope you like this!! <3

“ _x_ _2_ _\- 7x + 12 = 0…_ So _(x - 4) (x - 3) = 0_ as well. So _x = 4,_ or _x = 3._ Done.”

 

Most nights run like this. Ned’ll get home from school, make sure his room is some semblance of neat, maybe buy some junk from the shop before turning to homework. That never really takes him too long. Sometimes, he’ll think of Peter, out on patrol as Spider-Man and saving lives like a badass, using his super powers and generally being awesome, and he’s stuck doing homework. Ned doesn’t even know how Peter finds the time to balance school, helping May around the house, doing homework, attending Decathlon whenever they have it, his Internship with Tony Stark and superhero-ing as Spider-Man. So if Peter can juggle all those things, surely he can just do his things…?

 

Still takes exactly too much effort. But if he does his homework, he can go on his computer without a guilty conscience and chill out for the rest of the night. With a renewed surge of determination, he finishes the last of the worksheet and tucks it into his bag neatly. There. Now he’s done for the night. Ned stands and stretches, sighing in relief as a few vertebrae pop, and puts in his headphones. All in all, it’s been a pretty dull night. Peter hasn’t called him to help out as his Guy in the Chair, which kind of… sucks.. But he understands that not all patrols need him. After all, you don’t need tech support to take down muggers. With a tired groan, Ned sits in his chair and turns on the computer, tapping in his password and watching the screen light up.

 

He spends what has to be a few hours online in total, but he plays a couple of games and goes through some of the digital schematics Peter drew up and gave him for new web shooter designs. He still feels pretty honoured that Peter trusts him enough to let him see and edit the designs (they’re actually very well drawn and detailed, and he has to praise Peter’s genius) for something so important.

 

And yeah, online gaming is pretty fun, but it doesn’t have much on being Peter’s Guy in the Chair. The thrill of being friends with a superhero and helping him work… it’s amazing. This is kinda boring in comparison, but hey! It works fine. Ned looks over to the new LEGO set that’s propped up against his bed frame. Maybe the next time he sees Peter at school he can invite him around.

 

Speaking of Peter…

 

His phone is lighting up every few seconds, vibrating sporadically. Ned pauses the game and takes off the headset, pushing the chair over to where his phone is on the desk. Ned picks it up, eyes widening at the amount of messages there. He unlocks his phone quickly and opens iMessage.

 

23:47

_**THE Spider-Man:** hey man could u come outside. it’s been a rough night and i think i hurt my leg _

 

_**THE Spider-Man:** i hate guns _

 

Ned blanches. He knows some of the things Peter goes through nightly is enough to give people PTSD, but every time he learns how hurt he can get in just a few seconds is still terrifying. He wants nothing more than to go out and help Peter out, but he just could never keep up with him. He’d have to sit back and watch from the sidelines — not that he’d mind watching that all happen, nor would he mind just watching Peter.

 

He flushes slightly. That… He’s still not used to that type of thought. He’s not used to seeing Peter in _that_ light, and he’s not sure when he even started. Maybe the first time, at some point after the bite, where he’d come into school like some adorable mixture of strangely energised and excited, but he hadn’t done his hair and it had been, possibly for the first time in public since elementary school, a complete, curly mess. Ned doesn’t know for sure. He just knows that, at some point, he started liking Peter. And in more than just a ‘friend’ way. He’s pretty sure Peter doesn’t feel the same way though, given how he acts with Michelle, so…

 

Ned shakes his head. Now isn’t the time to think about his unrequited crush. Peter needs his help.

 

23:49 

_**THE Spider-Man:** it’s cold and i can’t get home. may’s asleep and im out of web fluid _

_**THE Spider-Man:** my leg is bleeding and i cant scare her by showing up like this _

 

23:50

_**THE Spider-Man:** i don’t really want to get hypothermia again. i’m outside if ur awake _

 

Crap. Ned turns off his computer, careless of what would have been a high score. So Peter is outside his place somewhere, bleeding. Hurt. And if the quiet hissing noise is anything to go by, in the rain. He focuses more on the messages, scrolling down them more quickly. He’s more than a little bothered at the ‘again’ comment about getting hypothermia, and resolves to ask him about it later.

 

23:56

_**THE Spider-Man:** sorry, i’ll _

23:57 

_**THE Spider-Man:** dropped my phone. nvm, i’ll go home. thats what window r for right?? _

23:59 

_**THE Spider-Man:** sorry for bothering u _

 

Ned wants to sigh with resignation. To be annoyed by Peter’s utter selflessness. To be more bothered by how completely self-reliant Peter is, and how he views himself as some kind of burden. But he can’t, because that’s just one of the things that make Peter _Peter_. Really, Ned just wants to tell Peter that he’ll love him anyway, but- he can’t do that. He just settles for biting his lip, deep in thought, before typing out a quick response on his phone.

 

00:09 

_**Guy in the chair:** you still there?? _

The response comes in alarmingly quickly-

 

_**THE Spider-Man:** yeah _

 

-and he’s forced to wonder about just how long Peter has been sat outside his home, hoping for a response because he’s hurt and needs to go somewhere safe. It feels like he’s betrayed Peter by not answering sooner.

 

_**Guy in the chair:** y didn’t you go home? _

 

_**THE Spider-Man:** i keep falling over _

00:10 

_**THE Spider-Man:** its probably a bad idea to try web slinging rn bc i don’t have web fluid for 1 _

_**THE Spider-Man:** and for 2 i’d crash _

_**THE Spider-Man:** again _

_**THE Spider-Man:** my legs wont listen. should have done some jumping jacks or smth _

 

Ned winces. Another implication that Peter has tried to help himself out, but hasn’t been able to and may be worse off for it. He huffs in amusement at the jumping jacks comment, but it doesn’t detract from his genuine worry. Ned stands up, stretches, and pulls on a hoodie.

 

00:11 

_**Guy in the chair:** hold on, i’m just getting ready. you need anything?? _

 

00:16

_**THE Spider-Man:** i just need to be somewhere warmer _

_**THE Spider-Man:** it’s so cold out here _

_**THE Spider-Man:** i can’t feel my hands _

_**THE Spider-Man:**  or my anything _

_**THE Spider-Man:** sorry if i woke u up _

 

This time, Ned actually does groan. Peter doesn’t need to keep apologising for it. Not that he knows that, and not that he’ll tell Peter that because if he’s hurt and in the cold, coming across as annoyed might drive him off completely.

 

00:18 

_**Guy in the chair:** that’s fine honestly. wasn’t sleeping anyway _

 

_**THE Spider-Man:** still _

 

He huffs, and opens his bedroom door as stealthily as possible. His dad’s out on business and his mom sleeps like a brick, so it isn’t necessary to be so quiet about it. He does it anyway. No need to draw unwanted attention. Ned keeps watching the messages as he creeps down the stairs, using the dim phone light to illuminate the way.

 

_**Guy in the chair:** hold on, just sneaking around _

_**Guy in the chair:** where r u? _

00:19

_**THE Spider-Man:** on the steps outside ur house _

_**THE Spider-Man:** thank god there’s a little roof thng _

_**THE Spider-Man:** means im not soaked _

_**Guy in the chair:** k. just coming downstairs _

 

_**THE Spider-Man:**  thank u _

 

Ned can’t help but smile at the message. Peter always had has such weird ways of just _being_ . Probably all linked to the guilt complex, but it’s still nice to receive the thanks despite the simplicity of the task. Then comes the concern. Peter hasn’t been like _this_ since… since his Uncle…

 

He decides to just keep Peter occupied.

00:20

_**Guy in the chair:** how long u been on patrol?? thought u had a curfew now _

 

_**THE Spider-Man:** im supposed to go home at 11 but i got caught up _

 

He pauses where he is, next to the kitchen. They keep a first aid kit in there. Peter said he hurt his leg, likely from a bullet wound. He types in a message quickly, and fires it off just as fast.

 

_**Guy in the chair:** u hurt bad? like, medical attention bad? _

The response takes a few long, concerning minutes.

00:23

_**THE Spider-Man:** just a graze _

_**THE Spider-Man:** i’ve had worse _

_**THE Spider-Man:** it’ll heal pretty quick _

_**THE Spider-Man:** bleeding a little tho _

_**THE Spider-Man:** its raining so it shouldn’t leave any marks.  thats good right?? _

 

That’s an answer in itself. Yes, then. Ned grabs it out of the cupboard as quietly as possible and ducks out the kitchen again, heading towards the front door.

 

00:26 

_**Guy in the chair:** i got a first aid kit _

_**Guy in the chair:** i’ve got that so you can clean it out _

 

_**THE Spider-Man:** thank you _

_**THE Spider-Man:** how long u gonna be _

_**THE Spider-Man:** im cold _

 

Ned picks the keys off the key hook and slots it into the lock as slowly and quietly as possible, turning it painfully steadily against how he would prefer to throw the door open and drag Peter inside quickly.

 

He was right, earlier on. It really is raining. Within the first seconds of being outside there is a thunder clap and a lightning flash, and the rain in itself is deafeningly loud against the ground. It’s really a bad night, both weather-wise and patrol-wise. Ned takes another step forward and looks around, the dark gray concrete of his surroundings blurring with the taller trees, and watches his breaths dissipate quickly. What is it Peter told him…?

 

_“Spiders can’t thermoregulate. I’m part spider. Don’t have a clue how I’ll survive patrol in the winter.”_

_“You’ll be fine, man.”_

 

Now, looking at the rain pounding the ground and hearing the thunder claps roaring in the distance, he’s less sure of that. The next flash of lightning snaps Ned back into focus and he steps out into the open, just shy of the first step down to the pavement. He looks around with a more critical eye, trying not to wince at the force of the wind, when something catches his eye.

 

A red something.

“Peter…” He’s still in the full suit, on the second step from the bottom and obviously soaking, one leg extended and dyeing the water around him a red-brown colour. Ned rushes forwards, careful to not slip down the uneven steps, and kneels in the puddled concrete. He’s more than a little worried about how uncharacteristically silent Peter is, and how he can see him trembling from where he is. He’s not even sure if Peter heard him coming, because he hasn’t given any indication that he has.

 

He rests a hand on Peter’s shoulder, wincing at the coldness on his palms, and shakes him lightly. Ned ignores how cold he’s getting in favour of trying harder to wake Peter up, because if _he’s_ feeling cold already then Peter must be half frozen by now. He keeps shaking his shoulder though, and after what feels like years but was probably only a few minutes, Peter’s head shifts slightly and he groans questioningly. Ned steps back as to not trigger any overstimulated senses, and watches as the eye lenses of the Spider-Man suit twitch and contract slightly.

“Hey, it’s just me. It’s Ned. Please calm down.” His hands are raised placatingly, not that Peter can see that, and he tries to make his voice as comforting as possible.

“N-N’d?” Ned winces at how hoarse Peter’s voice is. Definitely coming down with something. He has to get Peter safe, warm and treated, and soon.

“Yeah. C’mon, lets get you inside.” He says quietly, watching Peter twitch abortedly with a sigh. He didn’t really expect that Peter would be able to move around like this, injured and freezing, but it was worth a try anyways. Ned crouches down next to Peter and takes his arm over his shoulders, offering as much support to the boy as he can as they stand up. It’s kind of weird how light Peter is — Ned thought for how strong he is, he would have been a lot heavier. But he’s not. Ned supports what has to be most of Peter’s weight as they take their first step forward, shaky and hesitant on Peter’s behalf.

 

He has to ignore some traitorous thoughts about how close they are.

 

They’re about to take their second step when Peter stumbles and his knees give out. Ned gasps in shock and quickly grabs Peter before he can experience a pavement facial, bringing his arm across his shoulder to keep the other teen upright. The bullet wound must be really hurting. The rain is still pounding the floor around them, but he can just hear the fast, panicked way Peter sucks in each breath.

“Hold on, man. I got you, okay?” Ned tries his best to play the comforting angle, but sue him — he’s freaking out at this too. He’s never really seen just how bad patrols can go.

“... sorry. Dunno what’s wrong with me.” Peter whispers, mask facing the floor. Ned can imagine his eyes are closed in that way Peter does whenever he’s blaming himself for something.

“Your leg is hurt. But that’s fine, you’ll be fine.” He’s not sure who he’s reassuring now.

“Thanks, Ned…”

“No problem, man.” A thought hits him as he notices just how far the rain water has soaked the Spider-Man suit, and he frowns. “Jesus, how long were you there…?”

“I… I can’t remember. I think I hit my head.” Ned curses, and tries to remember what he can about concussions (which admittedly isn’t that much) before he shakes his head in frustration.

“Shit. Okay, right.” Ned has to support what has to be about half of Peter’s weight as they move back up the rest of the concrete steps. He just hopes the halls will be deserted when he goes up to his room, because helping Spider-Man through will definitely garner some questions. The door opens quietly enough, and picking up the first aid kit again makes it _really_ difficult, but he does manage to close and lock the door to his house nearly silently.

 

Now he just has to worry about if his mom comes downstairs while he’s half-carrying Spider-Man upstairs. That… that might rouse a few questions. Maybe. Ned’s heart is beating way too fast to be healthy as he takes the first steps into the hallways, head peeking around the corner for anyone who might be there.

 

No one. Good.

 

The silence is unnerving as he half-drags Peter up the stairs, only really being broken by the occasional hushed sound as he stumbles. Ned really shouldn’t be as upset as he is by every pained noise Peter’s making, but… he is, so… yeah. It doesn’t really help that it’s so dark he can hardly see a meter in front of him. Muscle memory takes over as he approaches his bedroom door, nudging it open carefully and leading Peter in. He’s nearly unresponsive in Ned’s arms, which is definitely bad. _Focus on the positives_ , he tells himself, _you can start helping him now_. Ned closes the door to his bedroom carefully, and flicks on the light afterwards.

 

If _he_ flinches at the sudden brightness, it must be horrible for Peter, who stumbles back slightly and raises a hand to shield his still-masked face. Ned sighs, maybe slightly too fondly, and gently tugs the mask off of Peter. It’s sodden in his hands, and the boy beneath the mask doesn’t look much better. He’s pale, eyes dark-ringed and slightly bloodshot, and the red smear spreading across the blue fabric of the suit’s leg reminds him that yeah, he got shot.

“Okay. Okay, right. What can I- what can I do here?” Ned’s more than aware that by this point, he might as well be talking to himself, but it helps to think out loud. He might be able to help out faster this way. Looking at Peter’s hair, pasted to his face, he snaps out of his reverie.

“Towel- gotta get you dry so you don’t freeze. Easy. Uh- stay here, I’ll be back in a sec-” And he runs out of his room, leaving a decidedly confused looking Peter standing alone.

 

He rushes back as quickly as he can, and it is definitely, 100% not because of how lonely Peter looked when he left. Not at all.

 

He holds out the towel, “Peter. Here.” Peter seems to blearily shake himself back into reality, and groggily looks over to him. He doesn’t move to do anything though. Ned winces. Concussion, right. Ned puts the towel on Peter’s head. It’s not really the best, but it’s better than doing nothing. Ned sighs quietly, floundering slightly. He doesn’t quite know what to do now, asides from just let Peter towel dry his hair off and wait until he can function a little bit better. So while Peter dries his hair off, Ned shuffles towards his bed and starts to shift a few things — his bag, a few books, a movie, some folded clothes — off his bed and onto his chair. Peter’s taking the bed, Ned can… he can find somewhere to sleep.

“Thank you. For- for…” Peter is looking at him — god he looks _exhausted_ — with a thankful looking expression on his face, but all Ned can pay attention to is how, despite being indoors, he’s shivering. The suit is soaked.

“Peter. It’s fine, no problem. But _you-_ ” Ned opens his closet, “Need to get changed or something. Don’t want your Aunt killing me for letting you die from the cold.” Ned tosses Peter some of his clothes out of his closet. They’re definitely too big for Peter’s skinny frame, but he’ll be damned before he lets his best friend pass out in wet clothes. Even if said best friend is staring at those clothes like an adorably lost puppy.

“You don’t gotta-”

“Shh. You’re not dying on my watch.”

“I wouldn’t _die_.” It’s obvious that, the longer he spends inside, the more coherent he’s getting. That’s good.

“Sure.” Peter sulks a little at his sarcasm, but recovers quickly as his fingers grip the clothes firmly as Ned opens the door to the hallway again.

 

Another sign just how out of it Peter is, is how he has to basically guide him to the bathroom to change, limping the entire way. Then he has to ignore his traitorous brain and the way it is _loving_ to remind him that Peter Parker is getting changed into _his_ clothes in _his_ bathroom.

 

Stupid brain.

 

He leaves his bedroom door open so Peter can find his way back when he’s done, and just prays that there’s enough sense left in him to not start climbing walls or something equally silly. While he’s out, Ned can focus on making his room tidier. Easy. He shifts a few items of clothing into his drawers and tucks his bag beneath his bed, making sure all trip-hazards are safely out of the way, and by the time he’s done that he can hear Peter trudging towards his room again. He feels bad for it, but Ned _really_ hopes Peter hasn’t accidentally gotten blood on the carpet. That would be _super_ difficult to explain to his mom in the morning.

 

It’s difficult to ignore the small fluttering sensation in his chest when Peter comes back into the room, clothes completely hanging from his body. His hair is damp but still endearingly ruffled. It doesn’t really help that, for all his muscle, Peter is still a twig compared to most kids their age, both in stature and in height. And Ned is aware he isn’t exactly the skinniest guy, so seeing his clothes hanging off Peter is even more hilarious-slash-cute. He’s still pale though, small bruises decorating his arms and calves, and that bullet wound is still there. It’s gnarly and painful-looking, and Ned can tell by the dazed expression on Peter’s face that he won’t get round to cleaning it before he passes out.

 

But that’s fine, because Ned can clean it out. He just needs Peter to sit down somewhere first. Except Peter isn’t having it, and is wrapping himself in a blanket already. To be honest, Ned can’t blame him. But he can at least _try_ to persuade him to take care of himself for once.

“Come on, man. Your leg is hurt.” Peter cracks open a bleary eye and stares at him for a few seconds before chucking a blanket at him.

“It’ll heal… jus’ wanna sleep now. You gotta sleep-” He yawns almost impressively, “-too. Sleep.”

“ _Peter…_ ” He says warningly, but Peter’s already flopped across his bed, curling into a little ball. Ned knows that tomorrow, Peter’ll be super embarrassed about commandeering his bed like that, but he doesn’t mind. Not really. He was going to sacrifice the bed anyway.

“No.”

“You’re a big, stubborn idiot, Peter.” Ned tucks the first aid kit under his bed. If Peter still needs it in the morning, then they can use it. Until then...

“Probably.” Peter mumbles, nestling into his blanket. It’s adorable. Ned just wants to hug him.

He blinks, “Where’s the suit?”

Peter rolls over slightly, lazily looking at the door. _Bathroom._ He stands, dropping his blanket to the floor.

“Where you goin’...?”

“Gotta get the suit out the bathroom, man. Or mom’s gonna ask questions we don’t want to answer.” _Like how you got here without her knowing._

“Tha’s my responsibility, Ned…” He huffs good-naturedly. Peter and responsibility, he swears they’ll be the end of him.

“Shut up, I’m doing it! Go to sleep, Pete.” He catches quiet grumbling from Peter as he walks towards the bathroom, and he laughs quietly. A tired Peter is a gold Peter. And yes, true to his guess, the Spider-Man suit is lying discarded on the bathroom floor. He winces slightly at how heavy and damp it is in his hands, briefly wondering why the heater isn’t working, and jogs back to his room. There’s no blood on the carpet, so he turns the lights off. He chucks the suit under his desk, obscured by his chair and everything sat on top of it, and sits on the floor with his blanket. It’ll be hell on his shoulders, but Peter needs the bed more than he does.

“What you doin’?”

He lies down. “Taking the floor.” There’s a quiet shuffling, then Peter is hanging over his face curiously. He flushes slightly.

“No- no- you take the bed. I’ll- I’ll just sleep on the ceiling or somethin’.” _That’s_ a hell of a mental image, but he can’t let Peter sleep on the floor while he’s injured. It wouldn’t be right.

“No, nope, not happening. You’re staying up there.”

“You’re coming up here then.” Ned’s breath hitches slightly at the thought of sharing the bed with Peter, even if they both are swathed in blankets and one is injured. Sue him, he’s a teenager with a crush.

“Bed’s not big enough for us both, Peter.”

“You come up here, or I’ll sleep on the floor.” The declaration doesn’t come out as threatening, because Peter’s voice cracks slightly on the last word. It’s easy to forget, now he looks more lively, just how exhausted and sick-looking Peter was a while ago.

“You’re not very threatening, Peter.”

“I will straight up roll off this bed, don’t mess with me.” And now he’s leaning dangerously over the bed, so Ned raises his hands placatingly and stands.

“Oh- fine.” And Peter shuffles far in on the bed, pressed up close to the wall to make room for Ned. So, as subtly and not-awkwardly as possible, Ned lies down on the bed.

 

It takes all of two minutes from it to go from thrilling to awkward. He can’t really shuffle around without making it uncomfortable for Peter, but he can’t relax without moving. So they’re at some kind of impasse.

“Chill out, man. Can feel you thinkin’ from here.” Peter grumbles, and Ned forces himself to relax. It’s _fine_. They’re just two best friends. Sharing a bed. Very close together.

 

Fuck, this is awkward.

 

“‘m not gonna bite. Should I move?” Peter sounds a little more alert now, and it would really be terrible for him to let him take the floor, so he’s just gonna play it cool. Pretend nothing’s up.

“No, no. This is just…” He trails off. What is _this_ , asides from awkward?

“Shut up.” Peter rolls over to face him, and Ned is so, _so_ thankful the darkness is shielding his face and ears from view because he feels like they’re on _fire_.

 

Right, right. Focus on things that _aren’t_ the person nearly snuggled into his arms. Focus on something that isn’t his crush.

 

It’s- it’s not really working.

 

He can feel Peter shivering beneath his blanket. The trembles are very small, almost impossible to feel, but they’re still there. Ned sighs, and pulls off his blanket to drape it over the both of them. He’s always been a pretty tactile guy, so it feels natural to bring Peter in a little closer, even if his brain and its traitorous crush try to distract him. Peter doesn’t stop him from bringing him into a hug, so he keeps going until they’re both leaning on each other.

 

And the awkward situation becomes a stressful-enough-to-die situation. Cool. He thinks he’s doing pretty well in keeping his internal screaming to himself, ‘cause Peter hasn’t commented on it further despite the fact he can probably hear Ned’s heart goddamn failing right now, and-

 

Ned blinks when he feels the pressure on his extended arm increase. He looks across-

 

Peter’s fallen asleep on his arm, curls sticking up in every-which direction and mouth slightly parted. It’s adorable, and Ned’s pretty sure that his heart has not only been restored to a healthy rhythm, but now it’s melting.

 

Ah, screw it. He can worry about his crush tomorrow, but for tonight? Tonight, he’s just gonna enjoy the simplicity of the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to check out my Tumblr, at spiderboyneedsahug! Send in a prompt or something, I don't bite! <3


End file.
